


Susan Sto Helit's Day Off

by Shusu (Sameshima_Shuzumi)



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sameshima_Shuzumi/pseuds/Shusu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan mislikes unstructured days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Susan Sto Helit's Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Deepa D. for the lightning beta! Any mistakes are my own. :)
> 
> ETA: Enjoy the view, Sir Pterry. 
> 
> Written for llyfrgell

 

 

* * *

The day begins.1

Susan doesn't technically need a diary to keep track of her days. It's a soothing cycle of getting out of bed, putting the kettle on, extracting the mold2 from young minds, and consulting carefully annotated lesson plans for the next day of work.

However, the vagaries of the school-year include a ridiculous number of "breaks" -- as though children stop learning on a certain scheduled day! -- and Susan often finds herself with a lot of time on her hands.

She mislikes3 any day which does not have some sort of structure.

Susan prefers to keep herself occupied.

*

For variety's sake, on odd numbered days Susan visits the mud-pits of Sto Helit. They have an excellent herbal soak, complete with herbal tea. The latter is drunk from the carafe with a straw, so as to keep the mud out.

M.4 Lynn is the proprietor of the mud-pit, and is quite fastidious about keeping the pits at the right temperature and consistency, and not filling Susan's time with idle chit-chat. M. Lynn also performs the best muscle kneading this side of the Ramtops. Normally Susan would never waste her time on something so extravagant, but she can't muster much argument against something that's as good as chocolate.

Later M. Lynn's sister Crino does Susan's nails. Since it takes hours just to get a nail file that won't break, Susan also has her feet rubbed. Just to fill the time. It's not as though Susan doesn't wear sensible shoes. Nails are quite useful for pointing with Intent; it's best to keep them clean and un-chewed.

The treatment is all free of charge. The mud-pits are mysteriously disinfected after each of Susan's visits, and thus M. Lynn has a monopoly on a day spa that doesn't cause Shrieking Leprosy.5

*

On even numbered days she procures6 a ticket to the Opera.

This may seem an unusual choice for Susan. The Opera House is filled with people who are usually quite mad for dramatics, or who are rich enough to take a nap in a velvet seat with Surround Sound.7 A disturbing amount of them are teetering on Death's door -- not that Susan would count on any of them to be able to find her grandfather's door, much less muster the strength to knock.

And then there is the music.

*

In one way, the music of rests and bar-lines is as important as the notes. Susan can't help but pick them out. Stop; repeat; end the measure.

If Susan were there on business, she would listen to every bar. Each note, each line would be important: held in the air for a certain amount of time and then vanished, no more, set aside so the next note can ring out. Those exact moments require her presence and attention. 

However, she is not there on business (usually), and so she is perhaps the only person in the entire Opera House who plugs her ears before each performance.

*

Susan observes. Of course she isn't avoiding the music, the hum of the crowd, or the silly way they prance on the stage. Observation is one of those Things that she's good at, in the sense that she can't help but observe everything.

She's not watching the show.

What she does is watch every single patron find their seat in the dark. Then she watches the musicians find their places in the score -- the synchronized flick of their wrists as they turn the page. Then she watches all the performers hit their marks and take their cues. She even watches everything backstage. It's not as though any flimsy backdrop is going to stop her. That's the best part: seemingly unbridled chaos culminating in a perfectly ordered scene. 

They all end up in the right place at the right time.

It's worth the trouble to end her day like this. And if she is nodding her head in time with the beat, she'll never admit it to anyone.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

>   
>  1 - Technically the sun has seen fit to clamber out of its caudogeei and sneak up over the Rim. The time of sunrise is somewhat optional.ii
> 
>  
> 
> 2 - De-molding. 
> 
>  
> 
> 3 - Susan does not _dislike_ days off. iii Even she needs a break from finding snot in unexpected places. She mistrusts liking them, however. 
> 
>  
> 
> 4 - Mando. 
> 
>  
> 
> 5 - The shriek is from the sound made when they pop. 
> 
>  
> 
> 6 - For some reason, she always has a box seat reserved. 
> 
>  
> 
> 7 - First used by the dwarves in their ambushes. Not as effective as the Surround Tar-Tosser. 
> 
>  
> 
> i. An obsolete term coined by a purported advisor of Carelinus, referring to when the sun is between the legs of one of the four elephants carrying the Disc, who are in turn conveyed upon the great turtle A'Tuin. Said advisor was of the opinion that the sun would tend to sink in the presence of dung, giving their armies an increased chance of a night raid. He tested the theory with the output from Carelinus' traveling zoo and a very large cannon. Later he asked about the experiment, and received the answer: YOU WERE OVERCOME BY THE RESULTS.   
>  
> 
> ii. Preferably after the first pot of tea. 
> 
>    
> iii. Except for holidays. Everyone always pops by with gifts and botched attempts at hugging. How the Soul Cake Duck managed to wrap that set of china, she'll never know. 


End file.
